


Banish

by ragnarok89



Category: Hellsing
Genre: Canon Compliant, Chance Meetings, Compare and Contrast, Drabble, During Canon, F/F, Female Character In Command, Female Relationships, Foreshadowing, Gen, Ideology, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inspired by Fanfiction, Inspired by Music, Introspection, Millennium | Letze Battallion, One Shot, Power Dynamics, Short One Shot, War, Weapons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 17:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7517858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragnarok89/pseuds/ragnarok89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble. Their capacity for war and bloodshed wasn’t to be yielded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Banish

As a part of Millennium, the Last Battalion, Zorin Blitz's cruelty knew no bounds. She was harsh and blunt, unrelenting and unyielding. She held none of the softness that plagued petty humans. They were beneath her. They always would be. She relished the thought of battle, of warfare; she was eager to spy where next her scythe would to be pointed, her hands possessively curling on its curve. Above all else, she would tear her foes from the inside out, from their darkest memories. She would leave them a shell of their former selves before striking them down.

Rip van Winkle was indeed a force to be reckoned with; that she had learned long ago. She didn't appear to be capable of such feats at first glance, but they did not call her The Huntress for nothing. Rip held a weapon that was almost a part of her being, just as Zorin's scythe was to her. Though frail and simple-minded at a first impression, like the blinding shine of a blade, Rip's bullets held no distinction; that was a promise to anyone who crossed her. Her fingers upon the trigger promised the certainty of defeat, shattering any target that befell her; that she knew.

They had waited too long for the incomparable war, the war that their leader, the Major, had promised for such a long time. Since then, they had been biding their time, gathering every soldier, hunting down those who opposed them, and saving their true enemy for last. _That_ was their prize. They would watch, hands balled into fists, nails digging hard into flesh, as their goal was nigh, fast approaching. If it was one thing Zorin and Rip had in common, it was that their capacity for war and bloodshed wasn't to be yielded. Not anymore.

Zorin had her scythe and the capacity to bring enemies down by her own hand. Rip had her musket, iron and bullets at her command. What awaited them would possibly been cold and dark, had they not been damned and eager to warfare. _And for so long._ They would have probably killed each other, had they been enemies. But they knew where they stood, and where they would until the war finally banished them.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by "Aus den Ruinen" by L'Âme Immortelle


End file.
